Stockholm
by A Warped View Of Reality
Summary: Alex, captured by Artemis Fowl the second, is tortured as Artemis searches for the information Alex doesn't have. Neither of them could have predicted what would happen next. Rating for violence. Warning, possible OOCness
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: i never ever thought in a million years that i'd ever write a story like this, but here goes :/ for those of you who watched it, this will be very loosely based on an episode from the recent series of Spooks, the one where Lucus' old captor comes to England etc. Enjoy, and please review:)_

**Stockholm**

Stockholm Syndrome: when a hostage has the psychological tendency to bond, identify, or sympathise with his or her captor.

* * *

Prologue:

Alex Rider hadn't slept for forty-six hours. He'd counted each minute. He could hear a clock ticking high up to his left, but the darkness in his cell was so complete, that he could see nothing. Not even his hand in front of his face, had he been able to move his arm. He was tied to a wall, in manacles like the ones he'd seen on school trips to medieval castles. His wrists were taking the full force of his weight, and his feet were high off the floor.

Every quarter of an hour, the sound they used in '6 to make suspects break, was played. He couldn't fall asleep. He felt like his sense had gone into hyper-awareness. A sound directly ahead of him, and locks being opened. Blinding white light fell over his face.

"_Cub! Get _down_!" Wolf had been looking at Alex as he'd been shot. In the back of the head. His face was blown to pieces: an open wound of blood and brain and bone. Alex had seen the attacker, seen his cold smile, his indulgent wink, then he was gone._

_Alex had let out a roar of anger and pain, and taken after Wolf's killer. None of the unit saw him go. It was chaos; a simple suspect retrieval gone horribly, terribly wrong. And now Wolf was dead. Brave, honest, loyal Wolf, murdered by a coward who didn't even have the balls to watch the soldier as he killed him. Over the heads of the panicked crowd, Alex could see the dark head bobbing between people. Letting out a low growl, Alex darted after him._

_He hadn't felt a rage this strong for a long time. Sure, he used anger to complete his job as well as he did – Anger at Blunt, Jones, any other official suit that tried to tell him that he was a true patriot. Anger at Jack, for leaving him, eve though he knew it wasn't her fault. Anger at himself for letting her go, for letting himself get sucked back in by MI6. – but this was something new. This was personal. Alex fully intended to get the guy: beat him to a pulp in an alley: hurt him so bad he was begging for death: and Alex intended to like it._

_There! The man slipping round a corner, into a dark and narrow passageway between tall buildings. Alex ground to halt, staring wildly into the shadows. They guy was there, somewhere in the darkness. The alleyway was a dead end; the houses too high and so entirely without any purchase for scrabbling hands to be attempted to be climbed._

_Alex padded forward slowly, cautiously, training momentarily overtaking the desire for sweet, violent revenge. He was seventeen. He'd known Wolf for three years, had been working solidly with the man for one of them. Alex knew Wolf's habits, his hopes, his dreams, his hobbies, how he liked his coffee for Christ's sake! And now Wolf was gone. God, Alex didn't even know Wolf's real name. He'd always said it was inappropriate when they working together. Said he'd tell Alex when they were older, and Wolf had retired, and was sitting on the veranda of his house in the country, smoking and beer._

_That fury flared up again, white and hot. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe properly. He stumbled for one fatal second, and that's when they stuck. A sharp blow to the back of the head was all it took, and then darkness swallowed him._

Alex blinked rapidly, trying to adjust his eyes to the new light source as quickly as possible. A dark figure was standing in the doorway, small and slender, but clearly male.

The man was coming closer, until Alex's eyes were just about able to make out thick dark hair, a pale, angular face, and mismatching eyes. One a brilliant blue, like the Arctic sky, and the other a dark brown. Both ice cold. The man, who could barely be called that, Alex saw – _he looks younger than me!_ – had thin, curved lips, that even now seemed to be on the edge of slipping into a taunting smile.

Then Alex's head and eyesight cleared, and he realised.

"Hello, Rider." Artemis Fowl the Second said, "At the risk of sounding like an old cliché, we've been expecting you."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter One:

Alex had heard about Artemis Fowl: who hadn't? The Irish, juvenile criminal genius. He'd gone quiet during his mid-teens, but returned, with more henchmen, more of a tendency to violence, and with more appetite for gold and power than ever before. Fowl had been the bane of MI5 for years, and thousands of rumours sprung up in both of the services around the boy. He was the son of the ex-head of the Russian mafia. He'd orchestrated the theft of the Crown Jewels from the comfort of his own home. He was evil. The spawn of Satan. Inhuman. Unnatural. Magic.

Alex was more than aware that anyone who could have got the hardened officers of '5 and '6 so worked up had to be someone extraordinary. And now, staring into those icy, calculating eyes, he understood. Fowl was something else.

Fowl was still smiling at him serenely.

Alex ignored him.

"Come now, Alex, don't be like that. All I want is a one word. Just so I know that Flash hasn't destroyed your vocal chords when he brought you in. He's rather unpredictable, like that," Fowl added sadly, "but his creativity simply can't be beaten. And he's a rather good shot." Alex stiffened, remembering Wolf's blood on the pavement. Fowl noticed. Alex got the impression that nothing got past him. "Yes, I'm sorry about your friend, Jonathan, wasn't it? As I said, Flash has the tenancy to get a little carried away. He was really only after you, you know."

"Jonathan?" Alex gasped out, his voice cracking due to the lack of moisture in his mouth.

"Oh, goodness me! I'm being so terribly rude, refreshment?" Fowl snapped his fingers at the door, not taking his eyes from Alex's face, and lifted the plastic cup of water that was brought to Alex's mouth. "Go on," Fowl said, sounding amused, "It's not poisoned. Cross my heart."

Alex gave in, and gulped down the liquid, knowing he wouldn't be able to last much longer without it.

"So, back to business. Jonathan White, or didn't you know his name? Wolf then. I do apologise for that, again."

"Apologise? _Apologise_?" Now he could think clearly once more, Alex was seething, straining futilely against the binds holding him.

"Now, now." Fowl stayed as close as before, smiling up into Alex's eyes. "I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

Alex spat, directly between Fowl's eyes. "_Fuck you_."

The smile dropped. "Try to refrain from doing that in the future. It would be in your interests to do so." With that, Fowl left, and Alex was in darkness once more.

He was allowed to sleep, he wasn't sure for how long, but he was woken up when five men unlocked him, and dragged him to the floor. They didn't tie him down, merely held his hands and feet in firm grips. The open door provided Alex with enough light to see that one of the men was holding a long stick of some kind, shaped like a baseball bat. The man stepped back, then brought the bat down on Alex's right leg.

Alex cried out, knowing instantly that at least one bones was broken, in all likelihood, more. The men left him then, curled up in a ball on the floor.

When he woke up, someone was dabbing a cool, damp cloth over his face. It was Fowl. Alex wanted to scrabble away, and tried, but shooting pains shot up and down his leg when he tried to move it.

Fowl looked at Alex, eyes glittering, but not with malice. The genius seemed to be more... interested. "Does it hurt?"

"Of course it fucking hurts. Want _me_ to have _my_ cronies bash in _your_ leg and see how _you_ feel!"

Fowl's face split into a wide smile. "Hush, now. Go to sleep. You'll have food when you wake up, since you've been good now. If you keep being so good then you'll be able to go home soon, and we can put all this unpleasantness behind us."

Alex fell back, the fight going out of him. He was suddenly very tired. "What does being 'good' entail, exactly?"

"Doing as I say, of course." Fowl laughed a little. before his expression suddenly became serious again. "You can start by telling me where they're holding my manservant."

Alex stared. "Y...your _manservant_? This is because of a _manservant_?"

"And the briefcase said manservant had in his possession, yes. You needn't look quite so stunned, Alex."

"Stop calling me Alex."

Fowl tilted his head, and said quietly, "I don't think it's really up to you dictate what I call you, do you?"

Alex turned his head away from Fowl's knowing gaze, and tried to block out the pain from his leg. Fowl left.

_A/N: i'm literally desperate for a review here, please?_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Two:

Artemis was unsure when exactly he began to develop an interest in Alex Rider. He supposed it was after the mining incident, when the genius had been illegally mining diamonds in South America. MI6 had turned up to investigate whether or not some of his hired workers were Italian mafia – Artemis neither knew, nor cared, as long as they got the job done and kept their mouths shut – and Alex had been there.

Artemis hadn't been present, of course, (prickly heat always made his skin come out in a rash) but he'd been watching through the cameras he'd placed so he could keep an eye on things. The age of the operative with the older, more experienced MI6 officers, stuck Artemis instantly. He'd run Alex's face through the system, and soon learned all there was to know about him. Then he sat back to watch. Alex had had a quietly determined expression: jaw set in a firm line, jaw subtly clenched, and knuckles white around the machine gun he was carrying.

He'd not been able to stop watching over the next months, Artemis was embarrassed to admit, but Alex was becoming something of an obsession for him, so he did what any self-respecting criminal genius would do; sought tirelessly for an opportunity to kidnap him.

When MI6 took Butler, in all truthfulness, Artemis' first thought had been about his loyal servant, but his second was Alex. Alex.

_Mine_.

Artemis had a thing about possession, you see, and what he wanted he had to get. Unquestionably. And, right now, he wanted Alex. Not in that way, not yet. Artemis knew that for Alex to trust him, for him to surrender _everything_ to Artemis, would take time. And time was the one thing Artemis didn't have.

_A/N: very short i know, but next chapter should be up soon, and much longer :) thanks SO much to all who reviewed - helped so much!_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Three:

The breakthrough came days later. Fowl hadn't allowed any information about the outside to get to Alex; the spy didn't even know whether it was day or night. He was exhausted, and his leg was still aching painfully. Since then, he'd only been tortured once more, when he'd called Artemis a monster.

They'd waterboarded him.

He'd heard stories about it, about officers that have psychological problems for years after undergoing such a thing. On paper it sounded bad – extreme pain, potential damage to the lungs, and to the brain from oxygen depravation, broken bones from struggling against restraints; people have died from dry drowning as a result of waterboarding – but nothing could have prepared him for the real thing.

The pain was overwhelming. The pain, he thought he was going to die, and he'd never been more terrified in his life. The tight, plastic cord around his wrists had bit into the skin so tightly he thought his hands were going to snap clean off.

Again, Fowl had been the one to nurse him round. The genius had even cleaned and bandaged Alex's broken leg. He still, obviously, couldn't walk on it, but Fowl cleaned it every day to prevent any chance of infection. He was wrapping a fresh bandage round Alex's leg when Alex came to.

"Fowl...?"

Fowl looked up briefly, then back down, his face unreadable.

"I'm sick of your mind games! I don't know anything _about_ your 'manservant' or whatever. I have _nothing_ to tell you."

"I didn't order them to do that to do." Fowl said quietly.

"What?"

"I didn't order them to waterboard you."

"What do mean? Of course you did. I called you a monster, so you punished me, right?" Alex stared at the boy, confused. Why was Fowl being so nice to him all of a sudden? It was probably a trick of some sort, but Alex couldn't figure it out.

"They did it because they thought it would break you. I knew it wouldn't, just cause you unnecessary pain. I didn't order them to."

Alex stared. Fowl still wasn't looking at him. This must be another trick, a vicious attempt to get Alex to trust him. Well, it wouldn't work. He wouldn't crack. Even if he did, he's have nothing to tell them, but he'd stay strong. For Wolf.

The thought made him turn his face away from Fowl. He wouldn't get worked up and annoy at the genius again, it's not what Wolf would do. He'd find a way to escape.

A scream suddenly echoed along the corridor, and through the open door.

"Ignore it." Fowl said, still refusing to meet Alex's gaze.

"Who is it?" Alex asked, struggling to keep calm: how many other innocent people had Fowl got trapped down here, torturing them, and driving them to the brink of insanity?

"One of your ex-guards."

Alex started in surprise. "Why?"

"He was who gave the order to torture you in my absence. Thought it would please me." Fowl's expression twisted into one of disgust. Alex stared, completely astonished. _What would Wolf do?_ So he turns away, constructs his face into a mask – doesn't let Fowl read him like he always does.

Fowl says his name, raises a hand towards Alex, then abruptly stands and whirls out, slamming the door behind him.

_A/N: late again, I'm sorry, but hopefully you like this:) HUGE thank you to everyone who's reviewed (especially to BeautifulSunrise 3)  
- really helped me to write more, thanks! _


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Four:

Artemis sat at his desk, his arms grasping the arms of the chair, gasping for breath. Alex. The image of the boy's pale, limp body lying so still- Artemis' nails dug further into the leather. He was angry.

"Woah, who stole your muffin?" Holly was perched on the edge of his desk, her head cocked to one side as her bright eyes regarded him curiously.

"MI6 has Butler."

Holly's eyes narrowed to slits instantly, and her fingers fell down to dance over her gun. "Then why are you sitting here like a lemon, rather than trying to get him back!"

Artemis swung round one of the screens to show Holly Alex's cell.

"Who's that?"

"A spy. They'll be desperate to get him back. A simple exchange." He replied shortly, not taking his eyes from where Alex was resting his head against a wall, exposing the column of his throat.

"What's wrong with his leg?" Holly asked leaning closer to get a better look.

Artemis was up again, pacing back and forth furiously. "It's broken."

"And his hands?"

"He was tortured."

"By _you_!" Holly asked angrily, her eyes alight with anger.

"The leg, yes. His hands and... other injuries, no. My men got a little over-excited. They've been dealt with."

Holly slid off the desk and reached up to put a cool palm against his cheek. "Artemis. No more torture."

He brushed her off and looked back at the screen. "There's no more time, anyway."

"Why?"

Artemis shot her an unreadable glance, then returned his gaze to the pale, shivering boy in the cell.

* * *

_A/N: ah, i know, the length doesnt even remotely begin to make up for the wait, but exams are pretty much over now (yay! :P) and chapters will becoming so so speedily ;)_


End file.
